


I might be impossible but you're improbable!

by Squishy91



Series: My sterek world [5]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Dying people, M/M, Nemeton studf, Pack Feels, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:51:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8253079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squishy91/pseuds/Squishy91
Summary: Stiles fights with big words and confusing ideas. "But my most favourite person is a werewolf you know? Well I hope you know, I keep saying this because on the Venn diagram of life where the realms of the improbable and the impossible overlap is us. Here and now. You know?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I hated this so much so I just finished it and posted it. Seriously I was sick and wrote like 5,000 words that were just filler talking but deleted it. Dunno. Comments please? First time writing that kinda big scene.

“Scott we have to break into the police station if we want that book back!” Derek gestures wildly losing patience and gaining eloquence in his anger. “And we want that book back because we do not want to die!”

Scott growls at Derek in response. “It's the police station!”

Stiles watched the way the two alphas seemed to be switching personalities before the eyes of the pack. Derek was usually cautious and Scott…

“Scotty we've broken into the station before,” Stiles frowned at his best friend. “Thrice actually, why is Derek the one who wants to do something illegal?”

“Yeah but your dad was in town,” Scott looked pleadingly at Stiles. “We wouldn't have gotten in trouble.”

Stiles snorted.

“We would have been in big trouble.”

“This time we could be arrested!”

“We've never been caught before!” Stiles glared at his friend. “Why is it any different now?”

“Because we aren't kids anymore Stiles; we have to grow up sometime.” Scott glared at his two pack mates then stormed across the warehouse, to where the betas were doing training drills, yelling over his shoulder. “And we aren't breaking into the police station!”

“So,” Stiles glanced over at Derek who bent over the map of the preserve. “So you wanna do something illegal Derek? I'm illegal for a few more months.”

Derek stared at stiles impassively.

“We need the book stiles.”

“Sourwolf killjoy.”

“You tell us when it's at its emptiest and how to find the book.” Of course Derek ignored the flirting. “Boyd and I will go in and grab it knocking out anyone who comes near us.”

Stiles rolled his eyes because as a plan made by an alpha (expects-everything-to-go-his-way) werewolf it was pretty logical and straightforward. For Derek.

However like most alpha plans it was overkill.

“How about I just go pick it up?” Stiles poked at the maps laid out on the table idly, voice disinterested as if discussing the weather.

Derek frowned at him eyebrow raising. Stiles ignored the question. Words are actually a thing.

“So what's with the maps?” He poked at a familiar geographical map and a hand drawn map covered in lines and stamp like symbols. The papers were a mix of yellowed thick parchment and crisp freshly printed. He traced a line to the middle of the preserve. The stamp it began from was a leaf curled to look like a flame. “The Nemeton. So these must be the ley lines. Except this has more than any other maps I've seen. And these marks…”

Stiles trailed off fingers fluttering over the ancient parchment. He would have to ask Deaton to get answers but he had no idea if the vet would answer him or just give him riddles.

“Stiles.” The growled name caught the teens attention.

“Yes oh alpha my alpha?” He asked mockingly, eyelashes fluttering. “What troubles you so?”

“Stiles. We need that book now.” Derek spoke slowly as if to a child. To be fair stiles was acting pretty childish. “If we don't stop the witches and that spell they'll kill us all and we won't be able to do anything about it. We can't fight their magic.”

Stiles stared at Derek. The alpha looked like the words had caused him physical pain. Maybe they had. He still wasn't 100% on the whole work as a team boat.

“We can go now if it'll make you feel better.” Stiles whispered suggestively knowing the training wolves on the other side of the warehouse would be too busy to overhear.

Derek didn't hesitate. He grabbed stiles by the arm and pushed him toward the parking lot. He yelled over his shoulder about fetching pizza and everyone yelled back their favourites. Like Stiles wouldn't already know.

It was scarily easy to leave without suspicion. Stiles would have to talk to them about that. As a whole the pack followed Scotts lead on the happily-ever-after view of life no matter how many times it was disrupted.

They were in the Camaro and speeding toward the station before a minute had passed.

“What do you need to get in?”

“I'll just make a call.” Stiles pulled out his phone and scrolled through his sparse contacts. The phone rang briefly before it was picked up. “Hey dad can I go get my Xbox back? Scott totally ditched me for Kira again. Ugh I know I'm demoting him from best friend. Uh huh. Alrighty thanks dad, love you. Don't go crazy at that stripper convention.”

Stole hung the phone up and glanced over to Derek as the alpha raised an eyebrow in an explosion of words.

“Police uniforms you know?”

\---

  
Stiles felt Derek should have been more impressed when he walked out of the station with the book fifteen minutes after walking in. No need for stealthy burglary. In fact no burglary at all. All he did was walk in with his backpack tell Parrish his dad said he could get his Xbox out of lock up, go grab the book (as well as his Xbox because why would he abandon it?) and walk out.

Derek just shook his head at him as Stiles swaggered over to the car grinning. They grabbed pizza on the way back to the warehouse Stiles a little anxious in the confines of the car.

Derek hadn’t reacted to his flirting. Hell he hadn't reacted to any of the flirting Stiles had been doing in the last few months. Stiles had even given up all pretence of subtlety. He couldn't help but wonder if he was barking up the wrong tree; and wouldn't that just be embarrassing?

Did everyone realise just how gone he was with the older man? He knew werewolves had an extraordinary sense of smell but could they sniff out emotion? Was that real? Could Derek smell what stiles was feeling?

Why has it never occurred to him to ask Scotty this before?

Stiles looked up as Derek glanced over at him and started to panic. He wasn't prepared to ask anyone now because that would lead to too many embarrassing questions.

But werewolves can't smell lust right?

Oh god stiles hoped not.

Back at the warehouse the pack descended on the pizza like starving wolves. No one noticed Stiles and Derek marching back to the table covered in maps until the pizza was gone and they wanted to pinch the box Derek had kept for the two of them.

They sulked away empty handed.

Stiles couldn't help but to smile at his overgrown puppies.

Lydia joined Stiles at the table glancing from the book to the maps.

“The spell is using the ley lines to create its perimeter,” Stiles’ finger traced a circle on the the map. “And according to this book they need five crossover points for the perimeter and a central focus point.”

Nodding she tapped the Nemeton thoughtfully lips pursed.

“Looks like they've set up camp at the Nemeton. Knowingly or not this is bad.”

Stiles swore softly. He hated the bloody Nemeton. It was part of what brought them all together but ever since the Nogistsune the tree had haunted his dreams.

“Well at least we know where they are and what they're doing,” Stiles scrubbed a hand across his face tiredly. “Bad news though. They're casting a sort of good luck and fortune spell which will suck the life force from every living thing within the perimeter. That's why they chose the preserve. Trees have just as much life force as people and no one will realise they're ritually sacrificing trees.”

Stiles stopped for a moment frowning. A glance told him Lydia and Derek had been joined by the rest of the pack who were watching with serious expressions.

“Seriously guys?” Stiles glanced at Scotty. “Last year of school and this is our normal? I say ‘ritually sacrificing trees’ and we all go with it without a second thought?”

At the blank stares of his friends Stiles begins to feel a strange shift inside. Fuck how had this become normal? In quick succession panic flared and was quelled by steely resolve.

If weres could really smell emotions Stiles knew his friends would be running for the hills. Well that answered at least one question.

“We are going to need supplies, recon, a plan and about three back up plans.” Stiles skimmed the text again finger hovering over the Latin phrases. “The ritual will begin at sunset the night of the next full moon. We have five days.”

Derek and Scott shared a look before dividing the troops. Scott took over training again as Derek plotted routes to each crossover point. Lydia and Allison were cataloging weapons and supplies with practiced ease.

It was lucky stiles had found ways to hide an erratic heart and lie to his friends since they all became the supernatural.

“I'm gonna go annoy Deaton,” Stiles turns a shit eating grin towards Derek. “See what use our enigmatic vet is today.”

With a flighty little finger wave stiles strode out to his jeep casually humming. It wasn't until he was parked in front of the vets office that he dropped his happy-go-lucky façade. He'd kept secrets from weres by being careful. He'd forget his medication and his heartbeat would be erratic. He'd get flustered easily and had obvious avoidance issues making sarcastic jokes at the most inappropriate times. He lied by telling the truth.

He was here to annoy Deaton. But the pack wouldn't realise until it was too late just what he had planned.

\---

  
Stiles knew just his presence annoyed Dr Alan Deaton. He was a twitchy, inquisitive and sarcastic pain in the ass. He could never stop moving or close his mouth for more than a moment.

He also knew that standing stock still, waiting patiently and silently for Deaton to finish with a client was concerning for the vet. Stiles was also painfully aware that the only time other people had seen him this way was at his mothers funeral and when the Nogistsune had control over his body.

As the vet ushered the woman and her cat out he turned the closed sign and locked the door. Stiles waited where he stood unmoving and silent.

It wasn't until Deaton was standing at the entrance to the back holding open the counter door and gesturing in did the teen move.

“This way Mr Stilinski,” he gestured to his office rather than the examination rooms. “I can only assume you have something of great importance to discuss.”

Stiles smiled a private and not very friendly smile. He could always rely on Deaton to try take control of the situation.

“I am not here for pleasantries and riddles Dr Deaton,” Stiles took a seat on the visitors side of the desk as the vet and sometimes Druid sat, his relaxed posturing ruined by the blatant concern in his eyes. “I am sure you are aware that the Nogistsune left something behind and that it's not something very nice. I seem to have an affinity for dark powers and I need you to help me drain the Nemeton dry.”

For a moment the man stared at the teen true fear in his eyes. A hand twitched toward the phone before settling on the desk. “And why would I do that? Mr Stilinski?”

“Did you just use my name as a question? Really Deaton it's all me in here.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “It's just easier on everyone if they can pretend I wasn't affected by my hitchhiker or dying however briefly.”

Deaton smiled pityingly at that. “You've been forced to grow up haven't you? These last few years have been hard.”

“Oh doctor D,” Stiles laughed like shattering glass; a painful lilt to the sound. “I had to grow up a long time ago. I just knew how to hide it for everyone's piece of mind.”

The mans gaze turned from pitying to considering as he watched the teens impassive stare. For a fleeting moment Deaton wondered who was more dangerous; the real Stiles or the Nogistsune before he physically shrugged off the thought. The real Stiles might be more dangerous than Deaton suspected but he must care about his friends and family more than anything to fake a happy easy going personality for a lifetime to spare them the pain of seeing him so changed.

Little did the vet and sometimes Druid know the very love that made Stiles safe made him the most dangerous being in the country.

The only thought that occurred to Deaton that the real stiles would throw his own happiness away for the ones he loved and his town. Which is something the Druid approved of.

Stiles leant forward as he explained what they had discovered of the witches plot and the packs plan to stop the ritual.

“The plan appears sound,” Deaton nodded. “Why have you come to me alone?”

“I don't want them to live like this,” Stiles stood and paced the room. “We graduate in a few months and everyone should be thinking about college and jobs not killing witches or whatever monster attacks next.”

The teen stopped by a bookshelf and ran his fingers down the spine of an ancient tome. “I read once that the Nemeton will store all of the negative magic put into it. That a residue will emanate and attract others to it. At an unconscious level it has a siren call to people and the supernatural creatures it can use to increase its power. However it originally was a place of peace, healing and worship. All of the negative energy and sacrifices corrupted it's true purpose.” The teen turned to the Druid with grave eyes. “The land is sick and we need to heal it.”

\---

  
Stiles texted Derek and Scott to tell them he'd be helping Deaton make a sealing spell for the witches powers. Lying over text was child's play.

If they realised his plan to drain the negative energy from the Nemeton they would try to protect their human member.

Deaton had only agreed once Stiles pointed out that his death would hurt his father and his friends so he wasn't on some kind of suicidal martyr mission. He also didn't bother to correct the assumption that he'd be draining and expelling the negative energy as the spell was designed; he couldn't afford to let the power loose.

Once the Druid had started to work alongside Stiles they both quickly realised the spark inside the teen was a barely contained blaze.

\---

  
With three nights to go until the full moon the pack met again to go over the plan of attack. Stiles had purposely forgotten to take his medication for his ADHD making his heart beat more erratic and his movements jerky.

When he arrived at Derek's loft Erica and Boyd were already claiming the couch. He wondered over towards them before changing direction for the kitchen.

Derek was leaning against the counter as the teen wandered in. Stiles’ heart stuttered at the sight and yet again he was glad that fear and attraction had many of the same physical symptoms.

“Hey there Alpha 1 when's Alpha 2 getting in?” Stiles made a beeline for the fridge and pulled out a can of Coke. Caffeine and ADHD just the avoidance the liar ordered. “So is co-alpha-ing,is that a word, I dunno, is co-alpha-ing like co-parenting? Do you think of us as your kids? Oh god tell me no. That's just so wrong. I'll be the crazy uncle. Well except Peter already has that cornered. I could be the un-undead crazy uncle. Except that's just copying. Maybe I'll be the crazy aunt with 30 cats. Right no I don't like cats. I used to like dogs but now I prefer wolves. Ones that are housetrained. So only like Boyd.”

Derek shifted slightly against the counter causing his shirt to hike up exposing skin. Damn stiles was already fighting to focus. Who knew what he'd say now.

He glanced up to Derek's confused face and grinned.

“You know I'd like to say Boyd is my favourite but he's Erica’s favourite. Now I might be her batman but I don't actually like cats. Nope. Not a cat person so I can't be her batman. Well you probably don't get it. That's ok. I say this a lot and you never get it. Seriously. It's like you're this huge impossible person and no one knows how's you do it but I want to. And it's not like I'm any better. I'm more of an improbable because let's face it I'm human. And werewolves didn't exist for me before a few years ago. But now they do. And they're the most important people in my life. Except dad but that's dad. But all of the werewolves are up there you know? Except the not pack ones? So just our pack. Also my favourite kitsune. And banshee and hunter. And hunters dad. And the Druid is a favourite battle of wills. But my most favourite person is a werewolf you know? Well I hope you know, I keep saying this because on the Venn diagram of life where the realms of the improbable and the impossible overlap is us. Here and now. You know?”

Derek stared blankly at Stiles for a moment stunned by the amount of words coming out in quick succession.

Moving carefully he pulled the Coke from stiles’ hands and replaced it with a bottle of water.

“No stiles I don't know. I have no idea what you just said.”

Before his disappointment could confuse Derek further Scott spoke up from the doorway.

“Stiles when was the last time you took your meds?”

“I wasn't looking at the clock but I could say the last time I knew I'd taken my meds was before lunch two days ago. We had pizza and plotted witchy murder. Oh my god we plot murder. We are totally supervillians. Well not super. You're super. I'm just human. Allison is human too but more human plus badass hunter. Lydia is kinda human but also banshee. Maybe human adjacent. Yeah I like that. She's human adjacent.” Stiles moved from the kitchen to the couch talking non stop. “Hey do you guys think there's a different kind of were out there that has all of the cool speed and healing and hearing and stuff but like no anger issues or inconveniently timed eyebrow dissolution. Maybe like a wereduckling. Cute and fluffy but no teeth. Actually no. Have you seen ducks they are vicious and scary and don't feed them guys. Seriously. No.”

He paused for a beat and looked around at the pack who stared shamelessly at the speed of speech and thought coming from their friend.

“You know I was just telling Derek about this thing I've been trying to tell him for a while and like you all know right? I mean it's not like I'm a closed book I'm pretty open. I mean I'm no public library but I'm not some kind of crazy hermit cat lady either. Or a monk. Or a priest. Or a less than sane person with a bald head. I'm still pretty sane I mean considering everything that's happened. And what hasn't happened because I feel like that's the important part here. We should focus on that. I need to have happened what hasn't happened don't you agree Boyd?”

The sudden stop in conversation and shift in attention left the group scrambling to process the dialogue.

Boyd blinked a few times slowly before shaking his head.

“No stiles,” his deep voice almost whisper soft. “You need to say before you do.”

Stiles blinked in return before crashing back into the couch cushions. Trust Boyd to be the only one who understood what he was trying to say. He'd been trying to say it for a while now but it never came out right.

Kira glanced between Scott and stiles hesitantly before raising a hand awkwardly.

“Um stiles does this happen often? We've known each other ages now and I've never seen you like this.”

Stiles smiled beatifically at the kind girl. “I may be slightly, kind of, almost, partly behind on taking my medication.” Before he could continue Scott placed a hand over stiles’ mouth.

“Don't let him talk,” Scott kept his hand over stiles’ mouth. “Lets watch a movie and get some pizza. Don't start a conversation with him unless you're prepared to have to deal with him not shutting up.”

Stiles glared resentfully at Scott until he dropped his hand then proceeded to sulk on the couch reading a book, watching the movie and updating a fantasy role playing blog about a guy who's best friend becomes a werewolf that he was running. The only thing that could focus him into quiet right now was doing as many things at once as possible.

The rest of the pack kept sending him slightly worried slightly incredulous looks throughout the movie. Which is what he wanted. The well meaning Scott will order him home after the movie and Stiles will be free to return to Deaton’s and finish the rituals.

\---

  
Once the spell was prepared stiles knew he couldn't stay away from the pack. So heading back to the loft he prepared himself mentally.

What's the worst that can happen buddy? You die a virgin. But let's admit you've been trying pretty hard on that front and His Mighty Wolfyness is not taking the bait. Won't bury the bone. Chasing no tails. No balls in his mouth.

And the best case scenario? You absorb unknown amounts of negative energy accumulated through all sorts of dark rituals and sacrifices through your very soul and either become Mr powerful or die. A peaceful death without any tormented soul splitting. Yeah that sounds about right.

Stiles tried to be optimistic but honestly he was tired. High school had been a long hard slog at saying alive and he just wanted a ten year vacation from mortal danger.

Pulling his jeep into the parking lot Stiles huffed out a sigh. He hauled ass upstairs to the loft carrying his bag of magic crap. The basic spark training he'd been getting was useful for very little at the moment. Usually Deaton would make the spells and potions and Stiles would use his spark to activate them in the fight. However unknown to the pack or the Druid Stiles had been using his spark to change this particular spell.

“Hello my adoring fans!”Stiles announced his presence by throwing himself into the room and barely saving himself from tripping over his own feet. “Did you miss my illustrious self?”

Derek, Boyd, Isaac and Scott turned from the tv briefly to stare at the clumsy young man before all of them turned back to the game.

“Rude.” Stiles huffed and shuffled off to the kitchen intent on sugar.

Setting his backpack on the kitchen table Stiles stuck his head in the fridge to find a drink. Caffeine and sugar in the form of Coke. Perfect.

As he closed the fridge door Stiles jumped half a meter on fright as he came face to face with Derek.

Oh please don't let werewolves be able to smell boners. Go away please just this once.

The alpha leant forward and plucked the can from stiles’ hands.

“I don't think you need anymore caffeine,” Derek cracked the can and took a pull. “I can hear your heart going crazy.”

Stiles felt his body freeze briefly before relaxing.

“Maybe that's not from caffeine.”  
  
Before Derek could ask him to elaborate Scott called for them from the lounge. Derek stomped out as Stiles stared at his ass.

“Maybe Cupids an asshole.” He muttered eventually grabbing himself another Coke, his backpack and following Derek to the lounge. Placing his backpack carefully on the coffee table he pulled out the five vials of blue potion and a larger vial of a blood red mixture. He promised it was just blood coloured. Mostly.

“So I've got the spell stuff. Long version or short?” At Scott's smirk he kicked his best friend in his shin.

“Short and in English please.” Isaac looked all hopeful and like a puppy dog eyes. Even when considering witchacide.

“Blue stuff at the five points. Smashed on the ground. Red stuff with me at the Nemeton. Magic bipitty boppity boop.” Stiles made vague magic finger motions. “We win and someone buys me curly fries.”

“That simple?” Derek was frowning at a blue vial in his hand.

“Well no,” stiles ran a hand through his hair. “But we did discover that the heather used in the potion is essential for the spell to work. But if its activated too early it'll loose it's potency so if it's smashed at the site and I'm at the central focus point with this other potion the spell joins and my spark can connect them.”

“So you have to get to the Nemeton?” Derek glared at the budding Mage. “Where the witches have set up camp to complete their ritual.”

“Yes.”

“And we have to do this on the full moon while they're performing their ritual which includes sacrifice. Such the life from everything nearby sacrifice.”

“Yes,” stiles hesitated before quickly recovering. “But I'll have a pumped up pack protecting me won't I?”

Derek growled as Scott launched into an excited retelling of the plans Allison Kira and Lydia had for the attack. Stiles glanced between his best friend and the other alpha wondering yet again if he'd die a virgin.

\---

  
The night before the full moon stiles would usually be at the loft hanging out with the girls. Tonight his dad had asked him to be home. And now the sheriff was asleep.

Tonight something drew the teen out of his house to the park a few blocks away. He'd walked in the cool evening air until he found himself sitting at a bench playing with a coin from his pocket.

It wasn't long before a silent figure joined him. They sat across from each other in the dark night lit by the light of the moon. Silent. Stiles flipping a coin across his fingers and wondering how long he could stay before one of them talked and ruined it. The quiet felt safe and welcoming in a way that the daylight didn't. Things could go unsaid when they couldn't see each other's faces. Or could pretend not to.

But some things needed to be said. Stiles pulled himself up slipping the coin into his pocket. He moved away from the bench and stayed silent until he was out of human hearing range. He stopped and looked back at the still figure.

“If things go wrong tomorrow-” he hesitated for a terrifying second as he considered what he was going to do. “If things go wrong tomorrow I just wanted to say I'm sorry.”

Without waiting for a reply he walked home heart pounding. He collapsed into bed with a ragged sigh.

“If things go wrong tomorrow I'll die and I won't ever get to tell you I'm in love with you.”

\---

  
Stiles wasn't the greatest most coordinated person where fighting was involved. Hell where anything was involved. However if you've survived your high school career with a different near death experience every month you couldn't be exactly bad at it. No not bad. Just not great.

Which is why Stiles used a knife as his go to weapon these days. His trusted bat was still a good go to but a knife covered with runes to repel healing, promote bleeding and paralyse the body. The paralysis was all he originally planned to put on the knife until he found the other runes in another book and he couldn't stop modifying, adding or improving.

Mostly it was spite when practice fighting with the pack that motivated the additions. Staying alive was second. Now all of the wolves treat the practice bouts with respect and a wary attitude.

However against enemy weres who expected their wounds to close immediately, not being able to feel the cut as the paralysis spread, it was a fatal weapon. Many had bled out before realising the nicked artery wasn't healing like it should.

Which is why Stiles wasn't originally worried about the witch with her hands around his throat. The wounds on the other witches had healed with supernatural quickness so this one had barely glanced as stiles flashed his knife at her neck before knocking it away. Now as her grip stayed strong any worry slipped his mind as he lost the ability to breathe. At least the steady flow of blood dripping on his arm was reassuring.

His vision started to blur as his body bucked in search of oxygen.

 _Oh_ , he thought listlessly as his mind drifted. _This is how I die. Again._

As his mind decided it didn't want anything to do with his body stiles found the pain slipping away. His gaze found Derek, fighting alongside Erica, across the clearing and he couldn't help the smile.

If you stood Erica next to Derek in freshman year she would have probably had a seizure from the proximity. Now they stood side by side beating the absolute crap out of the witches werewolf bodyguard with Erica’s supreme confidence and a sadistic grin.

 _It's ok,_ the young Mage thought groggily. _I'll die but they will be ok. Already said sorry. It ok to die._

The forest around stiles had already faded to black. His focus was so strongly on Derek that he didn't notice as his vision was fading. Not until all he could see was Derek's face and the shining moon beyond him did he realise that Derek was watching him and had come closer but he couldn't find the strength to care. He'd already apologised for dying. It was ok.

A long time ago someone had told stiles dying was easier than falling asleep. _You just have to let yourself go my dearest heart._

He heard that voice again now as he finally closed his eyes.

*  
The pack knew each other's heartbeats. The wolves did anyway. Isaac had once asked why and Derek had explained how each persons heart beat is slightly different. How the song in the back of their minds is the combination of all those heartbeats no matter how far away and proves no wolf with a pack is ever alone.

Once someone is a part of your pack you would never not hear their heartbeat. Until they died.

That's how the whole pack knew the moment stiles’ heart started to slow down. They fought with mindless desperation listening to that fading sound.

A witch was collapsed on top of Stiles, dead, as he stared at Derek and Erica glassy eyed.

As his heart slowed further a smile touched his lips. Derek froze in horror as Erica began to scream a desperate human sound.

Already Scott and Isaac were running for the young human. Boyd stood paralysed a few feet away with the rest of the pack as the thready sound of stiles’ heart slowed to a barely perceptible murmur.

Derek was by his side before he knew he'd moved. There was blood at the corner of stiles’ mouth.

“Apologis-“ with sightless eyes the words bubbled out on a final breath. “-or dying. ‘S ok.”

The heartbeat stopped.

*

The sound that ripped forth from the pack echoed across the town. The grief of wolves covered miles. All across town people called the sheriffs station to report an animal cry.

Melissa McCall stepped out of the hospital in the middle of her shift, in a daze, staring towards the preserve suddenly wishing she was a religious woman so she could pray.

The sheriff was in his office as the sound rang out. Parrish stood frozen in the doorway.

“Sir that sounded like a wolfs call?”

“That's the sound of family's heart breaking. I am familiar with it.” John Stilinski laid his gun slowly on the desk as he pulled on his jacket. “We need to go. Now.”

The two sped across town collecting Melissa as they drove. No one spoke. No one cried. They had all heard the sound before and knew what they were coming to. What they didn't know was who.

They all knew a path to the Nemeton by now. The sheriff took a shortcut driving off the road and dodging only the bigger trees in his haste. The car may never get out but at least he'd know.

They came upon a clearing now quiet and still. The wolves were on the ground around a body as they other members of the pack stood sentry around them. No one looked up or called out. No one moved.

One body was stiller than the rest.

The sheriff fell to his sons side and felt nothing. His heart gave up on any emotion as he looked down at his son. Melissa stood beside him weeping softly as he touched the now cold cheek.

Dark bruises had bloomed around the young mans throat as his body had been refused the chance to breathe again a month before he was supposed to graduate. He'd almost made it.

The sound that broke the spell on the clearing was the huffing breathes of Dr Alan Deaton, side Druid and sometimes mentor to Stiles Stilinski.

“How long?” He drops his bag beside the body and starts grabbing vials and bottles stopping to grab a handful of Derek's blood splattered shirt. “How long has he been dead?”

The alpha stared blankly at the hand holding him.

“Five minutes if the howl was at time of death,” Parrish was watching his watch. “Give or take 30 seconds.”

“That's close enough to,” he stood suddenly grabbing his bag and snatching the red potion from the ground beside the body where it lay untouched. “The circle was never completed? The ritual is still-? Shit. At least he planned for this. Get him up. Lay him on the Nemeton and back off.”

“Wait,” the sheriff grabbed the vets arm. “What are you doing with my son?”

“Bringing him back. We have five minutes for this to work. So get moving!”

Derek carefully lifted the dead weight of stiles’ body and walked over to the tree stump that was once the centre of a forest. Laying the body down gently he backed away to stand beside stiles’ father.

The pack formed a loose circle around the large stump each standing within reach of their pack, the two alphas on opposite sides and Deaton kneeling beside the body.

“I can kick start his heart and there's a spell that heals even oxygen deprivation however with the witches original ritual still going we need to seal that off first.” The pack glanced at each other is confusion. The Druid almost sounded unsure or afraid.

“Stiles said the potions would stop the ritual from being completed?” Scott was frowning in confusion and desperation laced his voice. “Why would that stop you from saving him?”

“Stiles lied. He always lies all of the time,” he quickly fed stiles the contents of two vials and rubbed his throat to force it down. “Sometimes he lies so well that even I don't realise it's a lie. The potions stop the witches ritual however it transfers the power and intent into another ritual. One stiles had planned on to be in the centre of. He had me fooled he wanted to cleanse the Nemeton by filtering it through the witches ritual. He was going to use his very soul to cleanse the negative energy from Beacon Hills.” Standing and taking a place in the circle around the tree stump the Druid sighed. “His soul cannot leave until the ritual is complete but that just means we have a chance to get him back.”

The man hands the red potion to Derek with a small smile. “Throw this at the stump hard enough to shatter and we'll see if he can find his way back.”

The alpha didn't hesitate. As soon as the glass broke the potion was released. Instead of liquid as anyone would have expected red smoke curled out like a living thing. It wrapped coils around Stiles’ body in a punishing grip that raised him into then air. Out of nowhere lightning struck his body blinding everyone.

“His heart! I can hear it!” Scott grabbed Kira’s hand beside him in excitement.

“His heart is beating but what about the spell?” Derek looked to Dr Deaton eyebrows raised.

“Well,” as he began stiles opened his eyes which had turned all red. “The spell should use his body and soul as he had planned. He wanted to filter all of the negative power out of the Nemeton so all kinds won't be attracted to it anymore” tendrils of red smoke sped off in five directions from Stiles. “However I was lead to believe he was going to expel the pure neutral power into the Nemeton to help it heal and regrow. But as anyone worth their salt could tell you the runes places along his body will channel that power inward. For what reason I haven't the faintest clue.”

They watched as smoke, black as pitch, escaped from the tree stump streaming into stiles’ mouth as he threw his head back in a silent scream. They noticed the smoke go from the darkest black to a lighter grey until finally the smoke was more of a fine white most tinged with the slightest green. Still he absorbed it all.

No one spoke again as the smoke dissipated and the red smoke connecting stiles to the perimeter lost form and drifted off.

The young man breathed out a sigh and slumped to his knees. Running a shaking hand through his hair he cracked a smile.

“Lucky for you your friend was only _mostly_ dead.”

He then fell forward in a faint before anyone could roll their eyes.

\---

  
Waking up Stiles felt better than he had in years. Hell better than he has in a decade. The bitter taste of grief was gone. The shadowed whisper of the Nogitsune was silenced.

His dad sat beside his bed and it was his bed he was waking up in not a hospital one. There weren't even any stolen IVs or tubes in any places. He lifted the covers quickly. Yup no tubes.

Sitting up he poked his dad's shoulder.

“Yo pops wake up.”

The sheriff shifted instantly awake staring at his son.

“Look I know I've got movie star good looks but no need to be star struck I still love the little people.” Stiles gave a little finger wave. “Wanna update me on what happened after I passed out?”

“Do you mean when you passed out or died?” John smiled a weary little smile. “Jesus Christ kid trust you to make a joke at a time like this.”

“And what time is it?” Stiles raised his brows politely before frowning. “No hang on I know what time it is. It's exactly 12:06. How do I know that?”

The sheriff glanced down at his watch. Stiles was right.

“Hey dad I've got stuff to do are we all good?” Stiles swung his legs out of bed and made to stand only to be pushed back down.

“What the ever loving fuck stiles?” Swearing means angry worried dad. Angry worried as means stay put and listen. “You were dead for over five minutes; you don't get to brush this off and go back to teenager world without a care! We need to talk about this!”

“You are right dad and I'm so sorry that I put you through this,” stiles hung his head briefly before looking his father in the eye. “I know it's huge and I should probably have a breakdown but I'm actually ok. Better than ok. I'm better than I've been since mum died. I accepted it when I was going to die and I was ok with it. It's not about anything else but I knew what was happening and I let go. I was at peace. And now I'm back and I'm ok with that too. I'm not going to regret living I promise.”

“You're just ‘ok’ with living?” The sheriff started to become enraged until stiles laid a hand on his arm.

“No dad I'm going to love living now. And I'm gonna do it properly. Trust me ok?”

“Since when have you been so mature?”

Stiles shrugged. “Since I died.”

At that moment both of the Stilinski men laughed. They knew each other enough to know that that phrase would be around and abused for a long time.

“Ok son. I'm not ok but I'm glad you are. Now let's get something to eat.”

Downstairs the pack was asleep having stayed awake the last two days straight waiting for stiles to wake up. When stiles would normally hesitate when waking sleeping wolves he instead gleefully grabbed his back up airhorn from the closet and let it rip right at the living room doorway.

The hilarity of a pack of werewolves springing to their feet in fright ready to attack while dressed in pjs and with record breaking bad hair made stiles grin. The glares from Allison, Lydia and even Kira were ruined by their hair standing at all angles.

“Hey don't get angry guys I just needed to do that. You know. Since I died the other day.”

“Piss off that's just an excuse I know you've had that horn there ready for months!” Scott growled the response out before realising what his best friend had said. Before stiles knew what was happening he had an armful of crying alpha. “You asshole you died!”

The dam broke with those words. The pack swarmed stiles touching and petting. Hugging and crying. No one seemed ready to believe their good luck. All of them yelled abuse just as all of them threatened him to never do it again. The young man just laughed because he had no other way to react to being so loved.

Eventually after everyone settled down someone suggested lunch. Stiles instantly used his new excuse to send Kira and Scott put after Chinese, Allison and Lydia out for Thai and Peter out for Italian. Plus his dad ordered his favourite pizzas.

With half the pack gone stiles found himself able to move about freely. The first thing he did was call out to Derek.

“Hey Sourwolf come here!” With a jerk of his head stiles turned and walked out the kitchen door to wait on the back veranda.

Once the older man joined him he smiled.

“You know as I was dying I was thinking about that night at the park. I kept thinking it was ok to die since I'd already apologised for it but after I  
realised what that would do to you. I know you and I know you'd blame yourself for my death and not noticing my plans.”

“Stiles-“

“No listen to me.” He took a deep steadying breathe. “I lied to you Derek. Every day we've know each other I've lied at least once. I know what you'll say about werewolves being lie detectors but I found a way and used that. And I'm sorry because I know someone else lied to you and hurt you but I still did it to protect myself.”

“You're nothing like her,” Derek glared out at the backyard. “We're friends stiles you don't need to always tell me everything.”

“No but Derek don't you see? I told you everything. That's how I lied to you.” Stiles rubbed a hand across his head he really didn't want a deathbed (ish) confession so he hoped to avoid that topic for now. “Remember the day I talked an hour about owls after you asked if I had any sleep that night? I deflected by changing the subject and made an off hand comment ‘I probably sleep more at night than Hedwig!’ Since they're nocturnal and Hedwig is a fictitious character it's not like I outright lied but I avoided answering and having to tell you I only slept 10 hours a week those days. Do you know what I'm saying?”

“If this is an apology you're shit at them.” Derek frowned down at the teen .

“I know,” stiles smiled sadly. “I just wanted to make sure you knew how I lied so I wouldn't do it anymore. I want to be honest with you. There are some things that'll take me ages to say outright but one day I will. Just like saying I can't be Erica's batman. Maybe you'll get it but most likely not. So I need to stop avoiding talking straight out and say exactly what I mean.”

“Stiles I have no idea what you mean. Maybe it's brain damage from dying.”

“Not fair,” Stiles pouted briefly before turning back to the house leaving behind a perplexed alpha. “Foods here let's go back in.”

When Derek didn't follow stiles turned around holding the door open.

“Thanks for not being weird about this and I know you'll wanna talk about it later,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the house. “However we have five werewolves, a banshee, a huntress, a kitsune, a Druid, a mum and two police officers in there who will eat our food which is the immediate problem.”

As Derek joined him staring at the living room full of the people he loved (and some he liked) he couldn't help grinning.

\---

  
When stiles became the great coffee filter of magic he felt the power shift. He couldn't have predicted what would happen. Once he realised he'd become the new Nemeton he knew he'd have to keep that secret . As far as the pack knew he'd gotten the cleaned power as a sort of magic boost.

The old one is just a tree on a ley line. Minor power but no juice. The young Mage knew he was lucky to be alive and determined to live. He owed his life to the Nemeton so he was happy to dedicate it to protecting Beacon Hills. It's what he'd planned anyway.

No one was impressed or surprised that life fell back into its rhythm. The younger pack members were inching their way towards graduation just two weeks away when a couple of omegas pass through.

\---

  
Stiles had been fighting better than ever as he ducked to dodge raking claws. Unfortunately he was still a clumsy person at the best of times.

Against the direct orders of his pack he'd run into the middle of the fight to help Derek. The alpha was just holding his own against an omega but was unable to get the upper hand. Luckily the distraction worked as Derek quickly dispatched the rouge werewolf.

The alpha stormed over to the Mage checking him for injuries. Finding none his anger and worry took over.

“You are impossible stiles!” Derek yelled voice growling in anger.

Stiles was sick and tired of being the god damn weak and fragile human. If Derek wanted a fight he was getting one, to hell with the guy who wouldn't notice someone hitting on him of they used a car.

“And you are improbable Derek!” Stiles’ arms were waving in exasperation however he was suddenly struck by how ridiculous he looked standing toe-to-toe yelling at an alpha. He wasn't even angry just frustrated. Sexually frustrated.

Derek's eyes flashed at the mocking tone. “You are impossible to control, unreasonable and intolerable!”

“And you oh alpha my alpha,” stiles grinned teasing creeping into his tone. “Are unimaginable, incredible and completely unexpected.”

Derek's body swayed closer and he reached out to steady himself on stiles’ shoulder. “You are ludicrous, ridiculous and wild.” He eyes searched stiles face as his voice dropped to a whisper.

Stiles’ gaze jumped down at Derek's lips then back to his forest green eyes. They were so close he could see flecks of gold in them.

“You are infuriating.”

“Maddening.”

“Exasperating.”

“Shut up stiles.”

And suddenly Derek was kissing him. All of the fight left stiles as he pressed forward to the alpha. A soft gasp escaped his lips as he remembered to breathe.

Some time later, after they had stopped kissing and Derek had buried his face in stiles’ neck, did they talk.

“So that was?” Derek's voice was muffles in the collar of stiles jacket.

“Amazing.” Stiles grins as Derek pulls back to stare at him. “So do you wanna..?”

“Yes.”

“You're not getting rid of me after this if you change your mind.”

“Good.” The alpha is grinning now. A full blown smile full of teeth.

“Good. Right.” Stiles looks around the clearing they had found themselves in. “Right lets go see if our friends are still alive. They didn't have me to save them you know.”

*

Not a lot changed afterwards. They teased each other like before, stiles chooses to sit next to Derek whenever he could or stand beside him and bump shoulders. When the pack is together they agreed to keep their PDA to a minimum so the alpha wasn't distracted. They would go out to dinner and movie dates. Sometimes movie marathons at the loft.

Stiles was the first person Derek told when he decided to rebuild his family home and stiles made chocolate cake and brownies the day he told Peter.

It took six weeks of dating and not hiding it in any way for Scott to realise what was going on. Peter won the bet on Scotts obliviousness and held gloating glory over the pack for a month.

The Hale house was halfway built by the time stiles’ birthday came along. The walls, roofing and wiring were all done and the pack had been painting and tiling the house by sections. There wasn't any furniture and the plumbing wasn't turned on but they were getting there.

The two were celebrating a whole pack painting session by being as far away from them as possible the night before stiles’ 18th birthday. Leaning against the hood of Derek's car, the town spread out below them and the stars blanketing the sky above they sat together just watching the world.

“Hey Derek want to do something illegal?” Stiles whispered his heart pounding. He felt his boyfriend stiffen behind him.

“What are you thinking?” Derek's voice held suspicion and stiles couldn't help grinning at the wary tone.

Turning in Derek's arms he kissed him softly.

“I'm still illegal for three more hours,” he grinned wickedly now hands wandering. “Do me.”

 

 


End file.
